Crawling Back To Her - Part 3

"So that's it, isn't it Steve. It was always my feet that you wanted. It wasn't me - my personality, or my ethics, or anything about being in love with me, not truly. The fact is, you've been infatuated with my feet since you were sixteen. For the past few years, I've wondered. Could you have been the 'one'? Did I not give you a full chance but this is the truth: you've betrayed your girlfriend by surrendering to my feet. That tells me what man you really are: nothing more than a foot bitch, who deserves and needs to be humbled as much as possible.... Are you, seriously...getting off on this?" His ex's words drip with scorn as he shifts his eyes downwards.

Humiliating doesn't cover it. With a feeble groan, Steve realises that he still has a noticeable hard-on in his pants, almost at just after Lucy does.

His devious ex can't help but let out a snigger. "Oh, that's just perfect. I've put you in your place, completely humbled you and you're getting off on it? Of course you are..." She chews her lip thoughtfully. "I wander if that's part of having a foot fetish or something separate? You know, the whole demeaning aspect of accepting oneself as inferior, based on infatuation to a particular body part?"

Steve merely grunts, as he again, averts any eye contact and wishes that his boner would subside. She's clearly revelling in this and honestly, he is torn. Part of him wants to literally lie down at her feet and beg for more, but a small amount of pride, plus thoughts of Helen just about stop him.

"Anyway..." Lucy continues, looking smug that he has nothing to contribute on an intellectual level. "Like I was saying, I call the shots. You're nothing but a foot bitch. I hope you can look your girlfriend in the eye, knowing that you were whimpering under my feet, with barely even an effort from me."

He stays silent, feeling guilt flood into every pore of his being. She's right... he's really screwed things up!

"OK. You can crawl out of here now, wimp," she says almost disinterestedly, brushing a hand at him as if he were of little consequence.

Kneeling there dumbly, he couldn't believe it. That was it?!

She rolls her eyes as she recaps for him. "We've established that you're a humble little foot bitch. That's what I needed. Now you can go. Oh, Happy Birthday by the way!"

"Er...yeah...thank you!" He replies, a little too gratefully, which makes her nose crinkle in amusement, the cute freckles on her face more noticeable. Before he starts to shuffle away, she taps one foot on the floor.

"I haven't even given you your birthday present yet, silly!" She chuckles.

"Oh, what have..." His words trail away as she points directly down to the floor.

"Now don't be too excited..." She giggles as she motions to her ex's still-swelling pants, causing him to blush a crimson red. "But as it's your birthday, and you've finally answered my question, fully apologised, acknowledged your fetish and accepted your place, you can kiss the tops of my feet. Once each only though."

The initial surprise of her 'present' is soon replaced by a simple, grudging fact. It's actually something he wants to do! Nothing in his body language can hide that fact as he finds himself lowering downwards to a full on crawling position, his head kneeling down as if to prostrate himself.

"Imagine if I had let you do this for your 26th birthday? I bet you would have done it, pretending it was a joke. Lying to me, rather than just admitting then what you really wanted..." It's hard to tell if there is derision, or bitterness in her voice. Or both.

With a kiss that lasts longer than it should, he tastes a pleasant, fruity aroma - nothing salty from this side of her pale, flawless foot. As his lips linger on the skin, he senses her toes spreading. It takes an effort to move on to the next one, leaving it there for several seconds longer before shuffling back a little, staying on all fours.

Lucy seems satisfied. "Happy Birthday, loser."

"Thank you," he says meekly, feeling his pants tighten a little more since the foot kisses. They weren't as exciting as kissing the bottoms of her feet - nothing could beat that!

"OK, get lost now," she says, swivelling her legs up and propping them up on a cushion on the couch. "Learn from this, Steve. Know your place. Enjoy kissing your girlfriend with your mouth that tastes like my feet!"

He nods, wincing a little at her harsh, scornful words, while he literally crawls away, grateful that he can get away before having done any real damage to his relationship with Helen. A couple of foot kisses, while basically being blackmailed? That's not insurmountable....that can be brushed away... He takes a breath as he gets to the door, immediately closing his eyes in despair as he notices Jade, a lady in her mid-30s and Lucy's neighbour - taking out the trash. He keeps his head down and hopes that she didn't see him, while jabbing at his phone to order an Uber. Keeping obscured next to a flower pot, he practically leaps out and sprints to the taken-aback Uber driver.

Checking the time, he realises it's too late to get to the restaurant. On his phone is a message from Helen, asking how he's doing, if the stomach ache is getting better. Lying to his girlfriend, he pretends that he's at home in bed and is not feeling any better at all. In the cab on the way back home, he decides to delete the messages from Lucy (the option 'only for him' - his ex would not accept any being removed from her phone!) and checked Facebook to ensure that Lucy hadn't commented on, or posted anything. Nothing...phew!

Lying in bed, fortunately returning before Helen, he tries to gather his thoughts. Should he tell his girlfriend the truth? He goes through all of the permutations and consequences from this. Other than that 'crazy' week leading up to Lucy dumping him a few years ago, he was actually very logical and analytical - something that came in handy in his job as a headhunter. Would Helen accept and forgive issue one - that he had a foot fetish and had been dishonest about this in the two years they'd been together...issue two - she clearly hated feet and had made that very clear to him....issue three - that he had kissed the feet of his ex...

He gets as far as that particular issue, before feeling an almighty erection begin to build. The taste, glorious, slightly cheddary yet deliciously fruity smell of his ex's sumptuous, silky soft soles is too much for him... with a whimper he grabs a few tissues from the bedside table, before erupting in well under a minute. Panting, exhausted, he discards the tissue and sighs.

Having a clearer head, he counts at least seven major issues with confronting Helen about the events from his evening and telling her the absolute truth. The clear conclusion is NOT to confide his foot fetish to her, NOT to mention anything to do with Lucy, and simply accept that his manipulative but not-unreasonable ex has proved her point and now it's up to him to move on from it. Feeling surprisingly at ease and relaxed that he has come to this decision so quickly, exhaustion from the day's events take over and he is asleep within minutes, well before Helen drunkenly returns.

Waking up, he looks around him in panic... Did yesterday he really, really kiss his ex's feet? Looking next to him, Helen is curled up in a sleepy ball. Checking his phone, he nearly sighs audibly with relief: no messages from Lucy! This should be it - she's proved her point, getting this closure from him, knowing that it was her feet that he obsessed over so much. Hopefully it will help her move on in his life and let him have a 'normal' relationship with his girlfriend.

Heading to the bathroom, he sits on the seat, pondering his situation. Should he mention something to Helen? IF he told her everything, maybe she would understand... but what if he lost everything? He takes a shower before heading downstairs to see that Helen is already making coffee.

"Hey hun! You feeling better? Everything OK?" Helen squeezes his arm, frowning a little. Looking into her eyes, pangs of regret for what had happened with Lucy make him struggle to conduct himself properly.

Forcing himself to smile, he squeezes her arm in return. "Oh, yeah, much better thanks. How was the rest of my birthday?"

She updates him on the rest of the evening - not a huge amount to say but she did enjoy catching up with her friend, then several others who joined them. He feels a little jealous of her having a nice time without him but admittedly, he is grateful she was suitably distracted not to come back to his parents with him, as that could have caused things to have been even more disastrous with Lucy. His ex would never have enjoyed socialising spontaneously like that. His current girlfriend is so outgoing, so popular! So very different to his ex!

As they continue to chat, his mind keeps wandering back to his ex. The dominant look she had, the reminders of when they dated - back a few years ago as well as the original, near-fifteen-year-ago relationship. Even though his senses had been obviously taken over with her bare feet in his face, he could not avoid the clear resentment she had held for him for years. Clearly, when he dumped her when they were sixteen, she hadn't been as unbothered and nonchalant as he thought. But then, why did she get back with him? And never mention anything?

Things were far more complex than he had ever given them credit for. His version of the narrative is that during relationship one (both aged 16), she was just too geeky, not cool enough and wasn't putting out for him. In relationship 2 (9 years later), although more confident and attractive, she wasn't putting out as much and the way she reacted to him revealing his secret foot fetish was met with harshness and coldness.

So, the more he thought about, the more he could see that actually, she had every right to be resentful and hurt. She needed closure from him, to dominate him with her feet on her terms, so she could see him squirm and submit to her. That would be so she could see what a loser he was, and never worthy of being with long-term. Enough information to help her move on from him... But does that excuse her harsh way of humiliating him last night? Knowing he was out with his girlfriend? Threatening to post comments on Facebook, share the voice note, messages... He couldn't accept that all of that was exactly fair, yet it wasn't completely uncalled for, considering how he'd treated her. The fact is, she needed to experience his foot fetish, first hand. She needed to see how pathetic it was, that he would actively betray his current girlfriend by giving into it. That was it - that betrayal of Helen was enough to tell her that he could NEVER be a worthy, long-term boyfriend, and that she was right to dump him.

While Helen cooks breakfast, he sits, contemplating this over and over until he accepts for now, that what happened in the past needs to stay in the past. He's made amends with Lucy by literally kneeling before her, confessing his secret on her terms and her putting him beneath her, again on her terms. As they chatted over breakfast, Helen - in her typically organised way - lays out their plans for the day. Lunch with her Dad, which would be a great chance to find out some key points for an upcoming Assistant Manager role, followed by a few bits of work they each need to go over, then she's seeing a few girlfriends to see a chick flick.

"Steve, seriously are you OK? Do you think it was food poisoning? You've barely touched your breakfast. Do you need me to take you to the Doctor's?" She frowns, fixing him with a look that he's seen many times before. It means: 'Save us both the time and tell me!'.

"I'm not sure...I, think I'm getting better..." He makes a concerted effort to eat some of the scrambled eggs and takes a swig of orange juice. "Honestly, I'll be fine." He adds more brightly, gradually assuaging her fears as they chat, him forcing his mind off Lucy.

"Argh..." Helen grumbles a little as she kicks off her shoes, rubbing one foot against her lower leg. "My feet are so fucking sore."

Unable to avoid noticing this, Steve takes a punt. "Oh, I could give them a massage if you like."

Helen laughs, shaking her head. "Steve, you know how I feel about feet. I wouldn't let a chiropodist touch my hooves. I mean, just the idea. Plus, they are so gross at the moment."

"They're not that bad... I mean..." Steve adds, feeling a little hot under the collar from her raised eyebrow. "I mean, you make out that they're disgusting but they're not...they're just feet."

"Yeah, just feet? Come on Steve, you've told me before that feet can't be attractive - everyone other than freaks and weirdos think that, right?" She continues to stare at him, making his heart race a little.

"Oh, yeah of course. I was just... Yes, you're right. Feet are gross," he quickly adds, giving her a squeeze of the arm that seems to satisfy her.

The conversation is ended as abruptly as his inclination to confide his secret in her was. Inwardly sighing, he resigns himself to the fact that he will NEVER be able to massage Helen's feet, kiss them.... But that's the point! if he did start going down that road, it would only end in disaster. Morning bleeds into lunchtime, Steve's thoughts still prickled with Lucy's feet and effortless ways of dismantling him. Still, he puts on his game face, makes an effort to be charming and affable, whilst attentive to Helen as her Dad buys them lunch. He gleans some incredibly useful information too about this potential promotion. It seems that one other woman - Stacey, someone he has more experience than is the only other viable candidate. Plus with what else he has found out, which he can contribute to in a meeting tomorrow, along with another main boss... he should be a shoe in! Helen seems pleased about it all too. For now, it seems that Helen has moved past her concerns of him, especially as he eats and drinks without any apparent issues.

Before he knows it, it's the evening and while Helen gets ready to go out, he scrolls listlessly on his phone, reading up on some football news. He considers seeing what a couple of his friends are up to but decides against it. He feels the need for some quiet time this evening. Helen does go out regularly, sometimes with him, sometimes with friends...he genuinely appreciates it as he does enjoy some time to himself, which keeps their relationship healthy. She drinks pretty regularly but never in excess, never seems to need to recover and has the energy of a Duracell bunny!

A WhatsApp notification suddenly comes up...

Come over now. I need a foot massage.


Despite himself, he feels an initial pang of excitement at the prospect of rubbing his ex's feet. No, not again. Think this time, he tells himself. She had her fun yesterday, she proved her point...

He quickly replies, making sure to be polite.

Hi Lucy...I mean this with total respect... I thought that you were done with me. Please don't take this as anything rude... I really did learn my lesson yesterday. I've proven that you are right not to be with me... that I'm beneath you...I've helped you to move on.

"Steve? I said I'm going now!" Helen shouts, a hint of irritation in her voice. "Are you definitely OK?"

"Yes, yes!" He calls back, hurrying over to the front door, where she is waiting. "Honestly, I was just reading some football news. Have the best time! See you later!"

She smiles, though there is still an inkling of suspicion about her. "Oh yeah, I never got to give you your other birthday present last night..." She whispers into his ear. "Make sure you wait up so you get it!"

Watching his beautiful, thoughtful girlfriend walk away, waving cheerily at him, he tries to pretend that Lucy's message didn't happen, that it was his imagination. Back to reality as he reads her reply...

Well at least you're polite this time. No, it's not as simple as that. I'm analysing more from my past and you have some making up to do still - I need you there to go over it. I thought the mention of foot massage would have been enough to be honest. Come now.

What options does he even have? Last time he tried to be assertive, it failed spectacularly. Standing up to her doesn't work, wriggling away doesn't...with a resigned sigh, he accepts that crawling back to Lucy is the only thing he can do.

Tapping on his phone, he knows it's best not to keep her waiting.

Yes, Lucy. I'll be there as soon as I can.


Heading straight to his car, not even bothering to turn off the hallway light (Helen won't need to know as he'll be back before her), he arrives at his ex's some ten minutes later. Ringing the doorbell, he pauses for a moment. Am I really going to do this? After last night...being at her beck and call. This was supposed to be done by now?

As she answers, she looks smug and satisfied, rather than gleeful. Wearing a black nightgown that leaves little to the imagination, and of course - typically - barefoot, his level of control on the situation slips further away. Frowning at him suddenly, as if she's remembered something, she folds her arms.

"Three things. One, don't ever question me when I message you - just do what I say. Two, where is my 'Thank You' for me letting you come over to rub my feet? Third, why aren't you on your knees? I thought I made it perfectly clear that you crawl around me since putting you in your place?" She states this in a completely reasonable tone.

Aware that others could potentially witness this scene, he swallows thickly his eyes pleading with her not to make him do so, but her expression is stone cold. Dropping to his knees, she nods at him, pleased that he's not outwardly challenged her. Turning sleekly away, she again walks stealthily, no doubt knowing that his eyes are fixed to her perfect, silky-soft soles as they lift achingly slowly off the ground. Already feeling his dick tingle a little, he tries not to stare at her feet.

It will only be a massage, that's not strictly cheating on Helen, he convinces himself, somewhat at least.

Heading into her living room, Steve thinks for a moment about how little things have changed for her, in the sense she is still living with her folks. Does that mean she's not very successful? She's mentioned a few times about analysing her life, their relationship... That thought is fleeting as he watches her slink over to the couch, flop down and place each foot, crossed over one another on the edge of the couch. Clicking her fingers at him, she makes it perfectly clear what he needs to do.

Crawling after her, feeling rather pathetic, Steve tries not to moan with anticipation at being near her feet again. Helen's face pops into his head, but not for too long as he readies he hands to massage the two most beautiful things in the world...

"Uh, excuse me loser," Lucy says suddenly arching both feet back away from him, causing him to start a little. "You still owe me an apology for not thanking me in your WhatsApp reply rather than question me."

"Oh...sorry Lucy. I should have said thank you. Sorry, that was...stupid of me. Honestly, I'm sorry and I'll do better. I promise..." His words fade away under her hard stare. "And...thank you, thank you so much for letting me massage your feet. Thank you."

She rolls her eyes a little but seems more amenable, stretching her pale, toned legs back out. "I thought it was clear to you by now where we stand. I'm in charge. It's like I'm the boss and you work for me. You're a foot bitch who does what he's told, by his superiors."

He gulps, feeling more and more out of his depth. Still, he can't help but eye her soles hungrily. Slightly pink, yet creamy and delicious at the same time. Being only several inches away, he allows her foot scent to flood into his nostrils, a slight waft of vanilla amongst her distinctive, slightly cheddary aroma. It's wonderful!

"You don't want to challenge me. Here - you can try taking my phone if you want..." She holds in front of his face as if to taunt him. "There you can delete my video, your voice note, the messages...."

He considers it briefly but shakes his head, knowing there is no point. All she'll do is use her feet and have him whimpering beneath them, as before. He may be pathetic but he's got some pride left and he doesn't need to be humiliated further to prove her point.

She almost looks disappointed as she yanks the phone away and continues. "So, when I message you, I expect a grateful reply. If it's to allow you to rub my feet, then I should expect a LOT of gratitude. After yesterday, I thought you would have learned..." She eyes him, shaking her head a little while he hangs his in shame. "And let me guess, you didn't have the nerve to share your secret with your girlfriend, did you?"

He shakes his head, which makes her smirk. "Sorry..." he mumbles. "I mean it, I really am... I... I just don't... I mean, I have a girlfriend... this is...it's....but I...I...it's just not easy...not my fault..." He finds himself sounding resentful, as it's not his fault that his ex decided to message him last night, on his birthday of all days!

"You don't have the balls to confide in your girlfriend and you make excuses? It's not MY Fault that you're an unfaithful, crappy boyfriend! Is that why you're here, at your ex's feet, kneeling like a worthless loser? No, I WON'T, you listen to ME!" She raises her voice suddenly after he opens his mouth to speak. "You are my property, a pathetic foot bitch who hasn't got the balls to admit to his girlfriend or anyone other than me, that he has a hard-on for feet. Yes, for feet! I have a video of you, messages, a voice note but that's not the main point anymore... I know your secret, so I own you. It's YOUR problem that you aren't man enough to tell your girlfriend, that you're too spineless to admit who you really are... you should be begging me to let me massage my feet. In fact, that's what you need to do. Right now!"

He can't fault her logic and her words hit a nerve. Rather than resisting, he accepts what she's said fully and begins to babble, feeling close to breaking. "Lucy, I'm so sorry... Please... please accept my humble apology. I am a worthless, pathetic loser who is lucky to even be near your feet! Everything you say is true - I'm not a real man... I can't admit my fetish to Helen...to anyone other than you. You can do whatever you want - you can walk all over me. Literally! I... I am so grateful to be at your feet and so, sorry for not being grateful enough. You're the boss!" He finishes with a whimper, feeling whatever was left of his pride complete dissolve.

Leaning back, Lucy stretches her arms up lazily and extends her legs back out, so her feet are in the crossed over position from before. "OK, I accept your apology. You can massage my feet now, loser."

Stammering another thank you, he leans forward, wrapping an eager hand around her small-ish right foot, which he knows is a size 6, using the thumbs from both hands to begin kneading away in the middle of her soft, slightly wrinkled sole. It feels so familiar, so comfortable, so natural...

As if reading his mind, Lucy giggles a little. "Well, everyone has to be good at something don't they! Do you have any idea of how many foot massages you've given me over the years?"

"Er... I... well..." Steve babbles, his attention being shifted between loving the feel of her foot in his hands to her question. "It's...erm..." To add to his degradation, he finds an erection already sporting in his pants.

"Best to let me do the talking and figuring out, I'd say. You stick to do what you do best - that's rubbing feet," she says arrogantly, which completely hushes him and turns his cheeks a deep crimson. "Well, to estimate that, we'd be looking at 6 months approximately, with at least one per week for the majority of that time, especially in certain weeks..." While she does some calculations out loud, she wiggles her toes, making Steve actually salivate slightly. "...Along with those months when I saw you at least three times a week, then in Rome when you literally couldn't stop offering me foot rubs... altogether I make it 120."

One hundred and twenty?! That seems like rather a lot but who is he to argue. She's proven since yesterday but in general to be fair, that she's smarter, more forceful and confident than he is. Steve merely grunts in affirmation, not wanting to get into another verbal exchange - an area she has always and will always win at.

"So after that many massages, it's fair to say that your fingers, thumbs and general contours and crevices of your hands have become uniquely adapted and suited to soothing and pleasuring my feet. To put it simply," She smirks, clearly enjoying the fact that she's far more articulate then he could hope to be since the dynamic has irrevocably shifted between them. "Your hands are the perfect massaging tool for my feet. Oh, also, I bet you've got another boner haven't you?" His silence makes her sigh in satisfaction. "Well done, Steve. Like I said, everyone has to be good at something and you've found it at last. You're welcome, by the way," she adds smugly.

"Thank you," he mumbles, a little grudgingly, beginning to resent the fact that the only achievement in his life, according to her, is to be a good foot massager, specifically for her feet!

She stares at him, that disapproving look returning as her eyebrow raising. "I mean..." He adds hastily. "Thank you, Lucy. It's an honour to put my hands to good use. To the best use. To the perfect... I mean, your feet just feel so soft, so perfect...And yes...of course they turn me on...I'm sorry for it happening so...so easily....thank you...sorry... I mean, thank you, thank you..." He finds himself genuinely fawning now the focus is back on her feet.

Stretching like a cat, her black nightgown briefly exposing similarly coloured underwear, she seems satisfied. "Like I said, you're welcome, loser. I mean, this was just always going to happen, wasn't it. I bet the moment you met me, you knew deep down that I was going to own your ass one day. Even though I was shy and a nerdy little hopeless case, you just knew that you were going to bow down to me and serve me. It's just the natural order of things: some people are just natural winners, and others - like you - are born losers. It was always going to happen." She grins at him.

What does she expect, another thank you?! Even though he's loving the feel of her feet in his hands, still focusing on kneading away in the middle of the same sole, his thumbs gently applying pressure, he can't agree with that. He knew he was going to be owned by her?! He knew he would serve her? She was a geek and still is!

Before he can help himself he actually drops her feet, finding himself blurting out his honest view, his erection now wavering a little. "I knew deep down I would serve you? It wasn't.... I mean, come on! You were... I could've done better..." He finishes, unable to stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.

Lucy narrows her blue eyes at him, shaking her head in disappointment. "Oh, so you disagree with me? That's interesting. I thought we'd established by now that talking doesn't actually help you very much, does it wimp? It wasn't like that to you at first, no. Even the most pathetic, unconfident version of me was still light years ahead of you, even then. I knew what I wanted - I wanted a nice, good looking boyfriend, and I got one. You apparently wanted a girlfriend who would put out, like some skank on the cheerleading squad. And I wasn't that; I never was. I was well-evolved beyond that. I had character and had you given me the chance, I could have given you everything you wanted and more," She doesn't even seem angry - in fact she has that perfectly reasonable, even persuasive tone that makes it hard for him to argue. "Any of that seem unfair?"

Shaking his head, he finds himself already regretting his outburst a little, but still...

"The point is that you have always wanted feet. Women's feet - it's only since I've thought about it and analysed key moments and relationships in my life recently that it all makes sense to me. Yes, by analysing myself, I've analysed you, far more thoroughly than you ever could, as you haven't even accepted your true nature - as a submissive guy who wants to serve a dominant woman's feet. Think about it, had you offered me that first foot massage and I turned you down, how long would we have lasted? I was aware that I had several disadvantages back then, so I played every card I could, as well as I could. You offering me foot massages turned into me making you practically beg to do them for me, and that was when we were sixteen." She laughs at how ridiculously pathetic that sounds, making Steve start to shift his gaze away from her eyes again and slowly picks up her feet, something that he can at least succeed in with her, rather than trying, and failing at arguing with her.

"Again, anything I say that's unfair, please do let me know," she wiggles her toes at this, daring him to interject. After several seconds of silence, she continues. "You've gone stiffeningly quiet. Anyway, I knew, subconsciously then, that I had power over you, and I liked it. I really liked you. You were just what I wanted - kind, smart, good-looking and I loved the fact that you would happily give me foot massages. I knew I couldn't compete with girls who would be an easy fuck, or had huge boobs, or were cheerleaders. I knew that other girls were surprised that you were dating me. I over-achieved then, and I managed to keep you for that long, with me getting more quietly confident with every encounter we had, until you fucked it up and dumped me. It wasn't because you weren't getting laid, or that I wasn't hot enough for you - those were bullshit excuses. It was because you wanted my feet, more than just massages, but didn't have the balls to ask me, or admit that's what you wanted." She stares daggers at him now, her feeling going quite still, while he gulps.


"So, yes I'm telling you that deep down, something about you was drawn to me, because of my feet and because of what you truly wanted. It was not about me not being hot enough for you, or me being too much of a nerd, or me not wanting to have sex at that young age; it was you refusing to accept that what you actually wanted and needed, was to fully embrace being a sub, rather than a dom," she says with authority. "This is part of the reason that you're back here and will keep coming back here until I say otherwise. I want to see how far I can push you, how you will react, how you deal with accepting your true nature and how it affects you. By crushing and destroying you, it makes me more powerful. I need that power - I need to get on in life now. I'm sick of living with my parents, sick of being in the same job where I can work from home half of the time. It all starts with making you accept what you are, which will then give me the confidence to be what I can be." Seemingly more relaxed after her through analysis, and with Steve still rubbing away, more fervently than before, he knows there is only one response.

"Thank you, Lucy... You are just right about everything. I'm sorry...so, so sorry that I was an idiot back then. I was stupid, like you said it was all about peer pressure... I loved and still love giving you foot massages..." He switches to her other foot and begins to reverently push away at her flawlessly soft skin. "Deep down, I wanted to be brave enough to confess my foot fetish... had I done it then, maybe things could have worked... I could have accepted my place... It all could have been different... But I am sorry, so so sorry for how I broke your heart... It's just...ridiculous now to think of me being the one to break up with you...when... look at us now..." he actually whimpers, which makes her nose crinkle a little, clearly enjoying him squirm. "Now... you're the boss. You've broken me. I am just... just a tool for your feet. You're the winner and I'm the loser. It's...just how it should be. I deserve to be dominated by you...you can do it whenever you need...I want you to feel empowered so you can do what you want to in life...I'll serve at your feet and accept my place..."

She reaches forward to give him a patronising pat on the head. "Well done, loser. You're learning! Now that's just about our first relationship! I've got some more thanking from you when I decide to discuss that one. Probably best you just agree with everything I say. Agree and accept it with grovelling thanks. Just imagine..." She pouts at him. "Had you admitted your foot fetish to me when we were sixteen...maybe during that time that I was revising for a Maths exam and you actually were happy to kneel in front of the coffee table as there wasn't room on the couch with all my textbooks... do you remember?"

He does remember. While he presses away at her delicious left sole, lifting it very slightly, partly to allow the smell to fill his nostrils more, but also to avoid her seeing the frustration and anguish on his face.

"Y-yes..." he says weakly. "You had both bare feet on the coffee table... I wasn't much help with the Maths so I offered to massage your feet while you studied. At one point you fell asleep, so I started smelling your feet... I'm sorry, I just...just couldn't resist..."

She giggles. "I didn't actually know that... but thank you for sharing!" She taps her toes against his nose, while he merely grunts, more humiliated than ever. "Yeah, I bet you couldn't. But I didn't know that then! What I remember is waking up and asking you how long I had been gone for, and thanked you for relaxing me so much, that you actually got me to sleep. I teased you then, while you went to get me a drink, that: 'I bet you dream about massaging my feet, don't you?' And do you remember what you replied?"

"I said... I said... 'No, only about kissing them!'..." Of course he remembers...it was one of those things that at the time, he knew he was taking a risk with.

She giggles again. "I loved that. I thought it was so cute and funny how sarcastic you were, but looking back on it, I should have questioned it. Anyway, imagine then that you had swallowed your pride, been a REAL man and stayed honest with yourself by confessing that you did, that you loved my feet, adored me and that you needed me to know."

He takes a breath. "Erm...what would you... I mean, please... please can you tell me what you would have said?"

She shrugs, smirking at him, enjoying his torment. "Well, we'll never know for sure. Anyway, I've made myself clear. You should have admitted this a long time ago. Had you done so and things worked out, you could have been kissing my feet WHENEVER you wanted. At college, you could have visited me, kissing my feet, smelling them, rubbing them...maybe even more... As I got more confident, more sure of myself, you could have been the one to have been rewarded with my feet - guiltless, endless foot heaven for you... no need for me to make you feel bad, call you a loser, give you a hard time, sexually do things with my feet involved..."

He lets out a gasp of frustration while she pouts at him once more. "Hey, it's not my fault. And you should be grateful now that I'm letting you NEAR my feet..."

To think, this girl who was a total loser at school, with her two loser friends is now expecting him to be grateful, for getting to massage her feet. And, mortifyingly, she's right - he is grateful! Quickly, he launches into a minute-long grovel over how perfect her feet are, how it is all his fault, how he should have done things differently, how it's him paying the price for it now, begging her to let him massage her feet for longer.

"Well, as you begged so well," she grins. "I don't see why not. I've got an hour or so of work to do - you may continue massaging my feet then. I'll tell you when I'm done," she gives him a look. "Let's be honest, loser - it's not you who will be telling me to stop, will it?"

"No..no of course not, goddess. And thank you, thank you again for the honour. I just love your feet so much, I will massage them for as long as you allow me to. Thank you...thank you for being so perfect and true, and right about everything. And sorry for the mistakes I've made - not just recently but all of them...breaking up with you being the worst...I'm so ashamed and stupid and I will do all that's needed to try to make it up to you...I will do everything you say..." Whimpering at her feet, it has literally taken 24 hours to turn her ex into a snivelling, broken bitch. This once shy, nerdy girl who adored and worshiped him now literally had him well and truly beneath her.

"Good boy," she tells him, reaching out from behind her to begin working on her laptop. "Now keep quiet while I work. Unless I ask you to do otherwise, all I need is a 'Yes, boss' or 'No, boss?'. Got it?"

"Yes, boss," he replies meekly, completely broken by his ex girlfriend that thoughts of his current girlfriend, Helen, are becoming ever-fleeting.



Steve is in so deep now! He has been broken by Lucy to the point that it's becoming increasingly natural to serve and obey her. How far is he willing to go and how much can he risk, especially when he still has a loving, devoted girlfriend in Helen Find out next time!